Guardian Angel
by Ziggymia123
Summary: Gabriel can still hear prayers, even after he ran off to join the Pagans. And some prayers demand to be answered, for the good of the young boy who is praying, and for the runaway angel himself. ONESHOT.


**Hello world! This is the product of a rather rabid plot bunny that attacked me. Umm... let's see... what else? This takes place sometime in Season 4, probably near the end. The prayer below set off this plot bunny, and I think it fits our angels pretty well.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural: Sam would still have his bangs. Gabriel and Balthazar would still be alive. Season 6 finale wouldn't have happened. Oh! And there would be a lot more fluffyness! Not to mention Dean would finally get his head out of his ass and get off his righteous high horse. Sadly, none of those things have happened. So I don't own Supernatural. Sadly. : ( **

**Enjoy! : )**

Angel of God

My guardian dear

To whom His love

Commits me here

Ever this day

Be at my side

To light and guard

To rule and guide

Amen.

* * *

><p>The year before the Apocalypse was the worst. For everybody. Castiel was beginning to doubt. Dean… well, he was just in Hell for forty years. And Sam. Well, that was self-explanatory too. But do you know what killed Gabriel the most? He could see everything that would happen. He could see how Sam's betrayal would unfold, how Dean's guilt would kill him from the inside, how his little brother would Fall. And all because the rest of his brethren wanted Paradise. Because he wanted to stay in the background and pretend to be a Pagan. But that's all it was. He was just pretending. Gabriel could still hear prayers for help, for justice, for mercy, especially if they were directed towards him. Usually he just tuned them out the best he could. It was easier that way. Safer.<p>

_"Please keep my sister safe."_

_"Help them find the bastard who did this."_

_"Oh God, if you help me on this test, I'll go to Church more often, and won't fight with my brother at all!" _

Occasionally Gabriel would listen in as a way to find dicks that deserve their 'just desserts.' Prayers for help, for vengeance, for justice. A young woman being abused by her boyfriend. Two drunk teenagers who killed a young boy when they hit him and didn't stop. A schoolyard bully. Gabriel found them all by prayers that he chose to listen to. But on rare occasions, he didn't have a choice.

_"Mr. Angel? I know that you're _my_ guardian angel, but do you think that maybe you could help my sister, Laura, too? Please? She's really sick and… and the medicine isn't working. I don't want her to be sick anymore. Please? Can you help her? Thank you."_

The small boy's voice cut through the normal din, saturated in innocence. It touched the deeply buried Grace in Gabriel. It reminded it of what it was. He felt himself drawn to the boy, and almost went to him before Gabriel snapped himself out of it. What was he going to do? Heal the boy's sister? It would send up a beacon to his brethren, screaming _"I'm here! I'm still alive! Come find me!"_ Besides, people just die sometimes. It was just the natural order of things. There was nothing he could do.

But not even four hours later, the young boy prayed again.

_"Mr. Angel? I know I just asked you this, but can you _please_ help Laura? Mommy and Daddy are telling me to say goodbye to her, and they're scaring me. I just want her to be better. Please?"_

Gabriel's Grace seemed to try to throw itself towards the boy. His sadness and worry and pure innocence seemed to feed the Grace, making it feel stronger, whole. Gabriel hated it, hated the emotions that came with it. He began to almost resent the boy for doing this to him, for reminding him that he wasn't Loki. But then he prayed again, and Gabriel was at his side before he realized he was moving.

He found himself in a small, blue room, toy trains littering the floor. A small, shaking form sat huddled on the bed, quiet sobs escaping took a small step forward, and a head jerked up. The boy stared at him, dark brown eyes wide behind a mop of black hair.

"Don't scream," Gabriel whispered, holding his hands out. The boy, who Gabriel guessed to be no older the seven at the most, sniffled.

"Are you an angel?"

"You prayed to one, didn't you?" Gabriel asked, his signature grin settling into place. The boy's eyes went wider, but this time in surprise and joy. "Now what's this about your sister?" Instantly, the boy's face dropped.

"She's sick," he told him miserably, "And the doctors won't let her come home, and Mommy was crying earlier, and then Mommy and daddy told me to say goodbye to her! Can you make her better? Please?" Gabriel hesitated for a moment, his grin slipping a little.

"Yeah. I can help her." The boy grinned before excitedly telling him exactly where his sister was and giving him a hug. Gabriel flies out the next moments, picturing the boys' stunned expression in his head and chuckling a little. Some small part of him is screaming, _'What the hell do you think you're doing, you freaking idiot?'_ but he finds it very easy to ignore and shove away. Maybe he needs to go something angelic. Maybe he needs to actively help someone for once.

Laura, the sister, is sleeping due to medication when Gabriel appears in her room in the cancer ward. She looks so much like her brother, the same thick, black hair, the same face, that it erasers any doubt in his mind. He gently touches two fingers to her forehead, smiling as his Grace runs through her body, destroying the cancer and breathing life back into her. He looks up just in time to see a scowling Reaper vanish and is gone in the next moment.

_"Mr. Angel. Thank you."_

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